Divided We Conquer
by impalapal
Summary: Separated by events out of their control after Devil's Trap will the Winchesters ever be a family again. Spoilers for seasons one to four. Disclaimer: Supernatural owns me, not the other way around.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter one_

Awareness was slow to return. Gradually, sounds filtered through the comforting haze. He didn't recognize the sounds, had no idea where he was, but if he was honest with himself, he didn't really want to know, it was just so damn comfortable here right now. So, wherever he was was just fine with him, he could enjoy the peace a little longer, hell for as long as he could get away with it he was going to, if only that little niggle at the back of his mind would go away he'd be fine, just fine. Unfortunately his mind wouldn't let him rest completely.

*** * * * * * * * **

The young intern sighed as he struggled to suture the deep cut on the cheekbone of the young man lying on the bed of the ER department of the hospital he'd decided on for his internship. He enjoyed it mostly although it was nothing like the shows on tv, they were far more glamorous than real life and so far, six months into his internship not one pretty nurse or gorgeous female doctor had thrown themselves at him, he hadn't jumped into bed with just about every woman who came within 50 yards of him, he'd had no dramas in his private life, in reality it was just damn hard work, but damn hard work he loved, mostly that is. His thoughts returned to the young man in front of him, he'd been admitted late the previous night, and was sedated soon after arrival in an attempt to calm him down to enable the medical team to assess his injuries, who was still trying desperately to leave even though every time he attempted to stand his knees buckled leaving whoever was closest to prevent him from kissing the floor and possibly adding a broken nose to his list of injuries. "Sir, you just need to keep still for a little longer, just as long as it takes to stitch the cut on your face and then, I promise, I'll try to find the information you asked for, okay."

"You promise." Sam knew he was being difficult but he didn't care he had to find out how his dad and brother were, he hadn't seen them since the paramedics had arrived at the crash scene and he'd been unable to find out anything, no matter how many times he'd asked, begged them to tell him something, anything would have been better than not knowing.

*** * * * * * * ***

"Any change."

"No, nothing."

The doctor walked to the bottom of the bed, his eyes trained on the still form of the young man lying motionless within it.

This one was a mystery, no id, no relatives or friends to give any indication as to his identity; he was just abandoned onto the steps of the hospital in the early hours of this morning in an ever increasing pool of blood. The doctor had never seen such injuries in his ten years as chief physician at the hospital of Our Merciful Hope in the small town of Carsvelstraight. Severe head trauma, chest trauma, blood loss, broken ribs, the list was endless. Dr Spencer read through the notes, checked the dials on the numerous machines surrounding his mystery patient and gave a sigh of sad resignation. The young man had a battle of epic proportions ahead of him to even partly recover from his injuries, if he recovered at all. It saddened the him to think of this young man with no-one to miss him, to worry over him, to support him in his fight, especially when he thought of his own two sons, of whom he was extremely proud, both having worked hard to gain the highest grades they could allowing them to attend the university of their choice. His eldest, Marcus, had decided to carry on the family tradition and train to become a doctor whilst his youngest, Harry, had taken a not completely different field to his father, choosing to heal animals as opposed to humans. Dr Jack Spencer wondered if his son became as attached to the animals he worked with as he did with his human patients. With a sigh and a request to be informed of any change Dr Spencer quietly left the room.

*** * * * * * * ***

The door to his room whooshed open, his hazy gaze took in the uniform of the woman who entered, a nurse, so he was in hospital, well that would explain the multitude of aches and pains assaulting his body every time he tried to move so much as a muscle. The nurse smiled when she saw the dark brown eyes observing her. "Hello, I'm grace, good to see you've decided to join us John. I've been helping to care for you since you were brought in."

What happened?" He managed to croak, damn it, his throat hurt.

"You're in hospital, you were brought in yesterday with your sons. You were involved in a car accident, pretty bad from what I can gather. You took a hard knock to the head, although we've done scans and they show nothing to worry about but you will have a headache for a while. As well as a multitude of cuts and bruises, you have a broken arm and had a gunshot wound to the leg which required surgery which was performed last night and is why you feel a little out of it today. Although it probably doesn't seem that way at the moment you escaped without too much damage to yourself. Right…"

John could no longer hear her words. As soon as he was told about the crash everything came back to him in a torrent of horror. Sam and Dean, his boys, at the mercy of the yellow eyed demon, he himself taunting them whilst possessed unable to break through, unable gain control of his body even though he fought with everything he had. Dean, his eldest son, chest torn to ribbons by his own father's hand, bleeding to death in front of him, begging his father to stop, to not let it kill him. Sammy, his youngest, calling his brothers name pleading for it to stop. Finally he was able to get a hold of himself and break through for just a moment, but that was enough, Sam was able to free himself and reach the colt. He'd begged his son to kill him, shoot him in the heart but Sam hadn't been able to do it and the demon had burst out of him and disappeared through the floor of the cabin.

"Where are my sons? I want to see them."

Grace gave him a small smile and pressed the call button above his bed.

"Dr Andrews will be here in a moment, he'll be able to explain better than I as he was the attending physician when you all arrived."

No sooner had Grace finished speaking than the door to his room burst open to reveal a short, round man wearing a white coat flapping open with a stethoscope hanging loosely around his neck.

"Mr West, good to see you awake, how're you feeling. A little sore I should imagine, that will pass pretty soon. Your arm on the other hand will take around six/seven weeks to properly heal. As for the gunshot wound to your leg I foresee no complications as l…….."

"Are my sons okay" John cut off the doctors' detailed description of his condition. "I want to see them."

Dr Blake Andrews looked at his patient, saw the desperation in his eyes. Sometimes he absolutely loathed this job. He'd spent the last thirty years as a doctor, helping people recover from serious and not so serious illnesses or injuries but one thing he had never been able to come to terms with was the loss of a patient and then having to break the news to the families who had pinned all their hopes on him and his team.

"Mr West, your son Sam is being checked over as we speak to ensure there is nothing we could have missed before we discharge him." He turned to Grace "Would you go and find Sam and if he's alright to be released tell him he can now see his father. "

Grace left the room to do as asked with a heavy heart. She knew what was coming next. As soon as Mr West and his son were reunited they were going to be given the news that nobody ever wants to hear about a loved one.

*** * * * * * * ***

Grace entered the ER and could hear who she suspected was the young man she had been sent to find. She walked to the cubicle where the anxious voice was coming from and opened the curtain. She saw a young intern removing his surgical gloves and giving the young man in front of him a small smile. "Okay, we're all done here, now why don't you see how you feel standing and then I'll go and see if I can get any information on your father and your brother."

Grace quietly watched the concentration on the young man's face as he placed his feet gingerly to the floor; she watched as he released his hold on the bed, she watched as he tried to take a step only for his legs to seemingly turn to jelly. The intern attending him quickly grabbed hold of the young man's arms and supported his weight before gently lowering him to a seated position on the bed.

"Sam West?" Grace didn't wait for a reply, "How're you doing Sam. I've been sent to find you to let you know your fathers now awake and wanting to see you. Maybe this'll make it a little easier." She disappeared for a moment only to return manoeuvring a wheelchair into the cubicle.

Sam smiled, "Thanks, how's my dad? Is he okay? My brother, Dean, do you have any information on his condition I haven't been able to find anything out? I don't even know where he is, whether he's in surgery, has had surgery, nothing, no one will tell me anything." Sam could feel tears of frustration building.

Grace took in the agitated condition of the young man and her heart nearly broke for him, he was doing everything he could to maintain his composure but was failing miserably with the weight of worry over his family.

"Okay, Mr West, o..."

"Sam, call me Sam."

"Okay Sam, one thing at a time, first let's go and see your father, he's anxious to know you're okay and then we'll work on everything else, okay."

Okay" Sam murmured, "But Dean, he was really bad, I'm worried about him."

Grace placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and began pushing the wheelchair towards the elevator where she pressed the button for the third floor.

To Sam it seemed to take forever for the elevator to arrive and then even longer for it to reach it's destination when in reality it took only seconds before the doors opened and he was wheeled towards the room he knew his father was in. As the door opened Sam could hear his father's gruff voice.

"I want to know about Dean, is he here? Is he gonna be okay? Dammit just give me something, anything."

Although at first glance Sam could see his dad wasn't looking too bad he could hear in his voice he was hurting and it scared him, his dad very rarely allowed himself to lose control, however little;

"Dad."

"Sammy." John looked towards the sound of his son's voice and felt tears burn his eyes as he took in his youngests battered appearance. "Are you okay?

"I'm okay dad, legs are just a little wobbly, be okay. Dad, where's Dean, I can't find him. " His voice was quiet and frightened, almost like that of a small child, eyes glistening with tears of frustration threatening to spill.

Dr Andrews motioned Grace to push Sam's wheelchair closer to the bed and then positioned himself so that he was facing the father and son.

"John, Sam, I wanted to wait until I had you together to give you the details on Dean. He arrived here with severe head trauma, chest trauma,

severe blood loss. We stabilized him as best we could but then had no option other than to take him in to surgery, he was in OR for six hours, we lost him twice but managed to resuscitate him. Dean was then taken to ICU where he was fitted with a breathing tube and monitored closely.

Both Sam and John listened in horror as Dr Andrews continued reciting the seemingly endless list of Dean's injuries. John cleared his throat before he quietly uttered "But."

"But" Dr Andrews continued, despite the best efforts of the team looking after him, Dean's body just couldn't cope with the injuries he sustained, his body went into shock, his heart stopped and we were unable to get it started again. I'm so sorry, Dean passed away earlier this morning."

*** * * * * * * ***


	2. Chapter 2

_**Divided We Conquer**_

_**Chapter two**_

**Hope you all enjoy this chapter. No reviews as yet but I'm happy that so many people have been to check this story out. Forgot to mention in chapter one that for this story John Winchester, Pastor Jim and Caleb are still alive although Caleb doesn't get much of a mention.**

Neither John nor Sam could utter a word, the room was silent, not even the breaths of the four occupants could be heard.

Grace placed a hand on Sam's shoulder hoping to offer him some kind of comfort, no matter how small, "I'm so sorry honey" she looked at John, his face devoid of all colour, his eyes filled with pain. "If there's anything I can get for either of you, please just ask.

"He can't be gone, I would've felt it, I know I would, there has to be some mistake." Sam grabbed his fathers hand, "Dad, it can't be true, not Dean, Dean can't be gone, it's a mistake."

John held onto Sam's hand and looked towards Dr Andrews and said, "Can we see him. Can we see Dean?"

Dr Andrews glanced at Sam and then looked back to John and answered quietly, "Of course, I'll go make the arrangements. Grace will let you know when we're ready and will then take you to him." With that he left the room quietly.

Grace moved towards the door also, she turned to John before she left, "Just hit the button if either of you need anything. I'll be back in a little while."

Once alone Sam and John, each lost in their own grief, their own thoughts remained silent until John grasped Sam's hand a little tighter and asked him if he had his cell phone with him. Sam fished the cell out of his pocket and handed it to his father who immediately scrolled through the list of names, pausing briefly when he came across Dean's name. He continued until he found what he was looking for. He hit the call button and waited for it to be picked up on the other end, he didn't have long to wait, the call being picked up almost immediately.

"Hello"

John answered "Jim."

"John, you okay, what's going on?"

John paused for a moment before continuing. "Jim can you get out here and bring Bobby with you, we need help."

Sam could only hear one side of the conversation so waited until his father ended the call before questioning him.

"Pastor Jim? You think he can help? And Bobby? Why didn't you tell him about Dean?

John looked at his son, "We need to be sure and if anything's not right Jim and Bobby'll be able to help.

As Sam was putting his cell away the door opened to reveal Grace. "Okay John, Sam I can take you to see Dean now." She opened the door a little wider to let in the orderly who was pushing a wheelchair for John. She helped him from the bed and within minutes the foursome were making their way to the chapel of rest to see the brother and son of the two men being wheeled along the corridor. On arrival they were shown into a room, dimly lit with a bed on the far side. They could see the outline of a body under the sheet. John nodded to Grace who turned down the sheet to reveal the body of Dean Winchester, Sam's brother and John's son.

*** * * * * * * ***

_Three weeks later_

"I don't understand how there can be no-one looking for him, it's just so sad, he's all alone in this, he's going to need someone to look after him when he leaves. How long is it since you alerted the cops about him? It was just after he arrived wasn't it? The young candy striper was tidying around the room housing their mystery patient as she questioned the doctor checking the young man's condition. She didn't see the doctor give a quiet sigh or his eyes momentarily flash a jet black.

"It's been a couple of weeks, but so far no-one has come forward. It's a miracle in itself that he survived at all and although he's yet to regain consciousness the signs are good. Now we just have to get his strength back, his wounds are healing exceptionally well and there appears to be practically no internal damage, it's quite unbelievable." As he finished speaking the doctor's pager beeped. "I have to take this; I'll be in my office if anyone should need me." With that the doctor walked from the room and across the corridor into his office where he closed and locked the door before taking the call.

"Yes, it's all going to plan. I am now Dean's physician, Dr Spencer is on compassionate leave, after all the loss of a son is difficult to cope with, he ended with a chuckle. Dean Winchester is recovering well; whatever they did to him certainly did the trick. No, he's had no visitors. As far as his family are concerned he's lying in the grave-yard attached to the church of Pastor Jim Murphy. I hear his funeral was a highly emotional affair. The doctor gave a small chuckle, "Oh boy, what I would have given to have been there if only to see the mighty John Winchester bury his firstborn, the warrior son and protector of Sam. What I don't understand is why we cannot just get rid of the elder boy, why do we need to keep him alive?"

The 'doctor' listened intently for a few moments more before hanging up and sitting at his desk. What the hell, how is the boy protected, and by who. He had been given orders to make sure the Winchester boy received no visitors and if he did, who they were. So far he had no explanation as to how he'd managed to survive the crash, how his injuries had suddenly miraculously started to heal themselves and who the hell was guarding the safety of one of the biggest thorns in the side of the demonic world there had been for a very long time along with his father and brother that is, not to mention the close knit group of hunters the Winchesters worked with.

*** * * * * * * ***

John watched as Sam slowly made his way back to the house after one of his many visits to his brother's grave, hands in pockets, eyes cast downward. It broke his heart to see his son so lost and alone but he knew he had to get his youngest, his only surviving family back into the hunt, back to his best because no matter what had transpired in the past Sam was still in danger, even more so now that his protector was no longer around, he needed to be able to take care of himself. John was now ready to get back to hunting; he wanted to make sure that the damn demon who had taken his wife and now his son would have no chance of taking Sammy. His grief had turned into a fierce need for revenge, doubly so now that he had lost exactly half of his family to this demonic son of a bitch. He'd discussed with Jim his intentions and although Jim agreed with his friend that Sammy did need to get back into shape, to be able to protect himself, he was worried that Sam's own thirst for revenge would cause him to be reckless in the pursuit of the evil which had stolen so much from him over the years.

John walked to the porch of the rectory to meet his son, John schooled his features as Sam started to climb the steps which would take him inside to the only family he had left, admittedly, although he would do anything for any of the close group of hunters, including his father, none of them could replace his brother, Dean had been Sam's whole world until Sam had left for college and been told to never come back by his dad, something Sam had been only too happy to comply with, if only that hadn't meant leaving his brother behind too but Dean would never leave their father, would never leave the hunt, so Sam had left and gone to Stanford where, until he'd met Jess, his life had been almost unbearable. He lost count of how many times he'd picked up his cell phone to call his brother only to back down at the last minute. How he wished he could turn back the clock. He would never forgive himself for hurting his brother as much as he did back then, by leaving. Sam had to admit he wouldn't change having gone to Stanford but he would certainly have made sure Dean remained a part of his life. If only he could turn back time.

Sam looked up to see his dad waiting for him, cold beer held out towards him. "Sam, we need to talk." Sam took the beer, glanced at his father and quietly answered "I know."

John couldn't hide his surprise at his son's answer. Before he could utter another word Sam again took the wind out of his sails by continuing, "Can we do this inside with Pastor Jim and Bobby, if he's still around."

John stepped aside, opened the door to allow Sam to pass, "After you."

As father and son entered the kitchen of the rectory, Pastor Jim greeted both with a smile but any words he may have been about to say froze on his lips as he took in the expression of the two men standing before him. John Winchester appeared to be puzzled. Sam Winchester was bursting with determination.

"I think it's time we got back to hunting this bastard down" Sam glanced at Pastor Jim, "Sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for my boy. I absolutely agree with you." Jim couldn't help but smile at the look on John Winchesters face. It wasn't often anything living or otherwise could render the man into a shocked silence, apart from his boys of course and young Sammy had done just that. "What d'you say John."

"I say lets get to it." John replied with a half smile, half frown. Although he was happy his son wanted to get back to the hunt he was worried that Jim's fears were correct that Sammy wanted to get back to hunting for the sole purpose of exacting revenge for the death of his brother. Hell, John wanted revenge, he wanted it so bad he could almost taste it, not only for his beautiful Mary but also, now, for his son, Dean, but he also wanted to ensure his only remaining son's future would be as safe as it could be in this world they lived in and that meant wiping as many demons from the face of the earth as they could as well as sending that fucking yellow eyed bastard back to the hell he crawled out of.

*** * * * * * * ***

The candystriper went to the door to make sure the coast was clear before quietly closing the door of the so called mystery patient's room. She quickly walked toward the bed and looked down on the unconscious form lying so still within it. She looked around the room. "It's safe, you can show yourself, we won't be disturbed for at least 30 minutes."

As she finished speaking she felt a presence behind her. She smiled as she turned, "It's good to see you Louis." She watched as he slowly made his way to the bed, his eyes never wavering from the young man who was finally to be put to the test, to see if he lived up to the hype that had surrounded his life from the moment of his birth. If he completed this task, he would prove once and for all that he is the one. The one to accomplish what many others had failed to do. "This is the one we are expecting to alter the course of the chosen one's destiny. He does not look to be anything exceptional."

"Ah, Louis, do not be fooled by his appearance. The man has lived practically his entire life fighting for the good, against evil, he is relentless in his pursuit of justice, he leaves no stone unturned in his quest to rid the world of darkness."

"Lara, you have become, it seems, very attached to this human. You know that is forbidden. We have a job to do and we do it, that is where it ends. Louis carefully scrutinized the face of his partner and couldn't help the stirrings of envy he felt as he watched her gazing down at the form of this Dean Winchester, the one they had been waiting for. He had to admit the boy appeared, on past performance at least, to be the one to ensure that the earth was not taken over by the evil that was just biding it's time to take control. That time was very near now, the new leader would soon be ready and when that time came Louis knew that there truly would be hell on earth. This had to be stopped and this man, he should not call him a boy, would be instrumental in that fight.

Lara's gaze slowly moved to Louis face, she looked him in the eye and declared her continued devotion to him and the quest they had been commissioned to see was carried out. "Louis, it is true, I do have feelings for Dean Winchester but they are nothing more than the protective feelings a mother may have for a child about to embark on the most important mission of his life. My devotion is to you and our cause, nothing more. I give you my word."

Louis' only response to Lara was a smile. He then raised his hand and gently placed his palm on the chest of the unconscious young man and quietly recited the Latin words which would bring about great changes to the patients condition in a very short time. He then placed his palm to the forehead and again quietly spoke the words. When he'd finished he looked to Lara and quietly spoke. " It is done. I must now leave. The rest is up to him." With those words and a light kiss on the cheek of his partner Louis disappeared. Lara smiled down at the young man lying in the bed and whispered into his ear, "Go find your family, there will be obstacles in your path which you must overcome, but, your brother needs you to help him fight that which he cannot overcome without the love of his protector. Your brother is a good man, a good man who has been tainted through no fault of his own. She gave a small smile and left the room positive that this man would eventually find his way home, would overcome all obstacles placed in his path by the demons so desperate to keep him away from their future leader. She knew that when he did find his way home the threat would not be immediately removed but would take maybe many years and many casualties before the battle was won.

*** * * * * * * ***

"God, help me.

"Please someone help me"

"Sammy, Dad, do something, can't breathe."

He continued to struggle to take a breath. There was something in his throat, he couldn't stop the heaving, he was choking.

A voice, a commanding but calm voice was saying something to him, the words finally filtering through the haze, through the panic. "Calm down, stay calm." He couldn't stop the heaves, couldn't stop the choking, couldn't stop the panic. He felt a warmth flow through his body, could feel the darkness calling, he gave in to it.

Beeping, that damn noise could only mean one thing, hospital, he was in freaking hospital. He slowly peeled open his eyes, the bright lights making him blink them closed immediately but at least he could breathe now, whatever the obstruction was had been removed and for that alone he was thankful. A voice, soft but firm. He couldn't help but respond to it's instructions.

"Hey, come on, show me the colour of your eyes. It's okay, the lights have been dimmed. Come on, that's it." The voice coached him through the process of rejoining the waking world.

"Can you tell me your name."

Dean scrutinized the woman standing beside his bed. She was, he guessed, mid forties, her dark curly hair cut in a chin length bob, lightly tanned skin, from what he could see under the open white coat she had a curvy figure but the one thing he noticed above all else were her eyes, sparkling brown, oval shaped eyes, eyes full of tenderness, care, whatever you wanted to call it, those eyes immediately relaxed him, he didn't know why, but he trusted her.

He tried to speak but could only manage a pathetic whoosh of air escaping his lips, his throat was just so damn dry and sore. He was about to have another attempt at answering the doctor's question when he found himself faced with a spoon full of ice chips. He took them greedily and revelled in the sensation as they slid to the back of his throat and eased the rawness there. His next attempt at speech was more successful.

"Where are my brother and dad? Are they okay?"

"First things first." The doctor gave a small smile as she spoke. "Can you tell me your name."

"Dean. Dean."

"Dean, do you remember anything of what happened before you were brought here."

Dean's mind was racing as fast as it could go at the moment. At first nothing, just a blank empty space but gradually, after a couple of minutes his memories returned, at first just disjointed fragments, but then an avalanche of pictures, pictures that almost drew the breath from his lungs. He saw dad, dad with yellow eyes, taunting Sammy, taunting him, revealing why mom and Jess had been killed, telling him his family didn't need him, didn't care for him, as long as he did his job of protecting his brother he was useful, that's what it had boiled down to in the end, he was just the watchdog, then, pain, pain like he'd never felt before, his blood flowing from his chest, his brothers screams, his fathers voice, the voice he knew, the voice that had always told him everything was going to be okay said just one word. Stop. The shot, his father falling, himself falling, gasping for breath, his father begging Sammy to shoot him, him begging Sammy to not do it, the black smoke erupting from his fathers mouth, disappearing through the floorboards of the cabin. Sammy helping him to the Impala, driving through the dark, dad asking why Sammy hadn't done as he'd asked, telling him killing the demon was more important than anything, Sammy glancing through the rear view mirror at his brother and replying that it wasn't more important than everything, a mighty bang and then darkness.

"A crash, we were hit by something."

The doctor noticed the toll on her patient as his memories had returned, she saw the sheen of sweat appear on his face as he recalled the events which had led him to their small hospital, she saw his colour fade to an even paler shade than it already was making the bruises covering the left side of his face stand out even more.

"Dean, you were alone when you were brought in, there was nobody with you, you were found on the front steps of the hospital three weeks ago."

Dean heard the words but couldn't process them. His gaze moved from the doctor to the room, no signs anyone had been waiting for him to recover, no signs anyone had even visited him. He knew his brother would have left his mark on the place had he been there, there would have been newspapers or magazines lying around, there would be empty coffee cups but most telling of all, there wasn't even a frigging plastic chair in sight, let alone anywhere near the bed.

" Three weeks" was all he could mutter.

"Yes, three weeks. Your injuries were extensive. You had huge internal damage, blood loss, fractures to your ribs and skull but somehow, don't ask me how, they just disappeared, it's as if they were never there. It is definitely the most miraculous recovery I have ever seen, heard or read about in all my years as a doctor. Even though I wasn't your attending physician from the outset, that was Dr Kennedy, but he hasn't been in for a couple of weeks now, don't know why, the doctor made a mental note to follow that one up before continuing. The way you're recovering you should be able to leave here in a few days. I just want to make sure we haven't missed anything so I'm ordering a couple more scans, the results of which will determine how much longer you stay with us. Okay, you get some rest, I'll be back later." With that the doctor left the room leaving Dean alone with his thoughts.

**TBC…………..Please Review.**


	3. Chapter 3

Here's the next chapter of my little story. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Supernatural owns me, not the other way around.

_**Chapter Three**_

"This should be simple enough. Poltergeist terrorising a warehouse, three dead, more injured this definitely wants taking care of before it gets even more out of hand. Should have this covered in couple hours max." John Winchester spoke as he was checking through his weapons bag ensuring he would have enough to cover every eventuality. Although this was, in theory anyway, a simple hunt John knew things could very easily turn nasty and he wanted, no needed this to go without a hitch. This was the first hunt in over two months any of the three men preparing themselves for a quick, clean job had been on, the first since having his cast removed, the first since Dean had been taken from them.

John raised his eyes to see how Sam was doing, finding him totally absorbed in checking through his own bag. John glanced towards Pastor Jim who simply gave him a small reassuring nod. John would be forever thankful he had a friend such as Jim who had in turn introduced him Bobby, Caleb, Joshua and Missouri after John had landed on his front porch with a four year old and a baby to take care of after Mary had been killed. Quite honestly John didn't think he would have been able to cope if it weren't for them and now, in the weeks since Dean's death each one of these friends had left no stone unturned, had scoured each and every hospital and law enforcement database they could, had even supported him in summoning a damn demon, but nothing, not one fucking piece of information suggesting this could all be a mistake or whatever else, had shown up, nothing, so now he had to accept the fact his son was gone and try as best he could to move on with the hunt, without the exuberance, passion, often quirky and down right original Dean Winchester take on hunting and life in general. Things would never be the same again and suddenly he felt the years catching up with him, a part of him had died with his son.

"Dad, you okay."

John was pulled back to the present by Sam's voice filtering through the memories. "Yeah, Sammy, I'm okay. You ready to go."

*** * * * * * * ***

"_Hey Sammy, remember when we were kids and you wanted to stay at that school in Chester?"_

"_Yeah, what about it?_

"_You didn't want to leave Sally Hislop."_

"_It was not because of that, I just didn't want to move again. I wanted to just finish out the school year and I was gonna take the lead in the end of year play."_

"_Yeah, you were Romeo, Sally was Juliet. No wonder you hid in the old dog kennel in the garden so dad couldn't find you, you were on a promise you randy dog you."_

"_What! Dean I was ten."_

"_At least you could get a girl back then."_

"_Shut up Dean."_

"_You gonna make me Romeo."_

"_Dean"_

"_Romeo"_

"_Dean"_

"_Rom…"_

"_You say it one more time Dean and I'll..."_

"_You'll what?"_

"_Put your AC/DC out the window."_

_Sam rolled his window down and placed his finger over the eject button on the car cassette player to show he meant business._

"_Do that Sammy and you'll follow it on the end of my foot."_

_"Yeah Dean, like to see you try."_

"_Bitch."_

"_Jerk."_

Sam shook himself from his memories when he heard his fathers' voice, "D'you want anything Sam."

"Huh" Sam looked out of the car window and realised they had stopped at a service station. "Why are we stopping?"

"Been driving two hours Sam, need a break, just a coupla minutes then we'll get back on the road." Sam gave a small nod to indicate he was fine and watched as his dad walked away from the car and towards the rest room. All of a sudden he just really wanted to be in the Impala instead of the old car Bobby had loaned them whilst he worked to get Dean's baby back to being roadworthy.

"It will get easier Sam."

"What? Sam half turned in his seat to look at Pastor Jim seated in the back of the rusty old junkbucket they were travelling in. "What will?"

"You've been lost in your thoughts the whole time we've been on the road, thinking about your brother if I'm not mistaken. This is going to be hard Sam, the first hunt without Dean and although it will never be the same, it will get easier."

Sam looked Pastor Jim in the eye, "No it won't." He then turned to look out of the window to see his dad walking towards the driver's side. The rest of the three and a half hour journey was completed in silence, each occupant of the car lost in his own thoughts.

John finally pulled the car to a stop at the end of a short dirt road at the end of which could be seen the location of the hunt they were about to embark upon.

"Why're we stopping here, can't we go right up to the door, it'll make getting the equipment inside easier."

John pointed out both front corners of the roof of the warehouse, "Security cameras on both corners. We don't want to be interrupted by security whilst in the middle of getting rid of this thing, they may not be working but I don't want to take that chance."

Sam slid his lanky frame out of the car, stretched his muscles out and said, "Okay, let's do this." Now they had arrived he just wanted to get the job done.

*** * * * * * * ***

Dean had been discharged from hospital two days after he had finally awoken. No remnants of his injuries remained apart from the bruises covering one side of his face, chest, back, stomach and thighs. In fact Dean could honestly say he felt fine, better than he did after most of the hunts he'd been on during the last however long he'd been hunting. After signing out he had been handed an envelope containing his wallet, cell, amulet, watch and ring. Dean opened his wallet and was amazed to find over two thousand dollars inside. At least he'd be able to find a motel, but first things first. Dean walked into the diner which was situated just around the corner from the hospital, ordered a coffee and scrolled through his cell until he found 'Sammy', he looked at the name for a moment before pressing the call button. He waited for the call to be picked up but it just continued to ring out, ring after ring, no voicemail, nothing, just that damn monotonous tone. He tried 'dad', the same, nothing. Over the next twenty minutes Dean tried every number he had listed on his cell only to come up with a big fat nothing. Not one call had gone through, not one voice message had he heard. He couldn't understand it; they couldn't have all changed their number, got new phones or be ignoring calls. Strangest of all was the monotonous tone he got after dialling Pastor Jim's number, he knew that the man always had the rectory phone in working order in case one of his parishioners needed to get in touch. This was strange, very strange. The next thing he tried was to try to get a trace on Sam's and his dad's cell numbers but came up empty once again having been told the numbers were no longer in use. It was frustrating to say the least but he supposed his dad and brother could have got new phones, after all in their line of work sometimes the cell just couldn't withstand the battering it would often take whilst nestled inside a pocket or rucksack.

Dean had spent the past ten days researching. He'd spent every available hour at the tiny library, he'd emailed Sam at least half a dozen times every day, hoping against hope that he would receive a reply, he'd done the same to Pastor Jim but so far, nothing, he'd drawn a blank, no matter what he tried.

Dean spent a while wandering around the small town he had somehow ended up in but couldn't face the prospect of spending one more night there, he just needed to be on his way, he'd resolved to make his way to Lawrence, to Pastor Jim's place, the only place after the age of four he could even remotely think of as home. Not that he and Sammy had spent that much time there, not unless one of them had been sick, their dad had to go on a hunt alone or if Pastor Jim had invited John to leave the boys for a short holiday with him. Dean had always loved spending time at the Rectory. He could do all the things a 'normal' kid could do. He could play ball, ride a bike, climb trees, go fishing, eat proper food and he could stand down from guarding Sammy 24/7 although he always kept tabs on his baby brother, always knew where he was, what he was doing and who he was with. Dean never let his dad know how much he relished his time off the road, he didn't want him to think that he wanted any other life than the one he had, didn't want to risk his dad leaving him behind. He would do anything to keep his family together and safe, which if he was honest with himself was the reason he'd waited so long to act on his decision to return to Lawrence, he was afraid of what he would find. Now though it was time, now he was ready, he was going to face things head on, it was the only option open to him, something he could put off no longer. Dean was going home.

Dean had packed his few belongings into a rucksack, stocked up on some essentials. Rock salt, salt, shotgun, knife, lighter fluid, matches and he'd even managed to convince the priest at the parish church in town to bless some water for him, having told him it was so he could pray each night and cleanse his soul, so now he had holy water to add to his small arsenal should he need it. He checked out of his motel and hitched a ride to the next, much bigger town and bought a bus ticket which would take him to Slewiston which was about a one hundred and fifty mile journey leaving him only another four hundred and fifty miles until he reached his destination and hopefully answers to the multitude of questions buzzing around inside his head. He knew he could have cut his travel time by hours had he flown but that wasn't gonna happen, no way. If only he had his baby, his car would make the journey almost pleasurable, would ease his fear of what he may or may not find once he reached Lawrence, Kansas. Whilst waiting for the bus to arrive Dean bought himself a classic car magazine and a newspaper to help pass the time on this first leg of his journey.

By the time the bus reached Slewiston Dean had learned of what he suspected was an angry spirit terrorising an apartment block on the east side of town. He checked into a nearby motel and made his way to the library following the directions the young man who had checked him in had given him. He spent the next three hours researching until he was positive he was right, there was an angry spirit that needed removing. He returned to his motel room with a beer and burger and waited until darkness before he made his way to the apartment block. Most of the reports had pinpointed the laundry situated in the basement as the location of the terror inflicted on the residents. His research had revealed the story of the tragic death of a laundry worker, Sarah Davies, who had been employed by the hotel which had stood on this site before the apartments were erected. The laundry woman had complained many times that the old water boiler was becoming dangerous and needed replacing but the hotel owner would not spend the money and refused to acknowledge there was a fault with his equipment. One day there was an enormous explosion. The water boiler had exploded, causing the liquid to burst from the ancient receptacle, but that was not what had killed the woman, no, she had been scolded badly, very badly, but what killed her was the sizzling heat of the steam. Her skin had apparently peeled from her body in the intense heat; she had died in agony having survived until help arrived only to breathe her last as she was carried from the room.

The laundry was in darkness when Dean arrived, the washing machines and tumble dryers silent, the trouser presses and irons switched off but the room still felt warm, there was condensation on the closed windows despite the overhead air vents being open. Dean flicked on his flashlight and began scouting around looking for any item which could be keeping the laundry worker here. He meticulously searched along each of the four walls, nothing, he searched every square inch of the floor, nothing, he searched each and every cupboard, nothing. Dean leaned against one of the machines and removed his jacket, it was stifling, sweat dripped from his hairline into his eyes. Just when he thought he wouldn't e able to stand it any longer the temperature dropped dramatically even as a thick cloud of steam poured out of the silent washing machines. Dean sensed the presence rather than heard it, he turned quickly only to find himself within a few feet of the spirit of the laundry worker, her skin hanging from every visible part of her body, blisters dripping a green fluid, hair hanging lank, but on her face was a smile, a victorious smile. "You have come to mend the boiler. It is a good job as I am sure it will not work for very much longer."

Before Dean could answer the spirit's face contorted into anger as she spit out her next words. "You killed me, I suffered in agony because you would not replace this, you will now feel what I felt, you will suffer as I did." The spirit of Sarah Davies moved very slowly, a small smile returning to her face, towards Dean.

"Sarah, no wait, I'm here to help you. Just let me explain." Dean reached behind him for his shotgun as he spoke, he wanted to explain what was going to happen, that she would finally be at peace after all these years but Sarah continued to advance on him until in the end Dean had no choice but to raise his shotgun and take aim. Before he could get a shot off he felt himself lifted from the ground before his body was thrown the small distance to the wall behind him which his body impacted with force pushing the air from his lungs and causing his vision to dance, black spots clouding the view of his tormentor.

Dean managed to shake himself back to some clarity, raised his shotgun and fired, Sarah gave a hiss and a scream as she dissipated leaving Dean alone for the time being although he knew she would soon be back, he had to find whatever was keeping her here, there had to be something, something that had either belonged to her in life or something she had used during her work.

Dean's eyes moved towards the boiler, Sarah had emerged right beside the boiler. He made his way over and inspected every inch of the monstrosity, although Dean had not known a real home for a very long time or visited many hotel laundry's he knew that this piece of equipment was not the usual you would expect to find. It looked old, very old. He looked around the outside, on the top, down the sides, nothing. He was just about to turn his search elsewhere when his eyes hit upon a booklet hanging from the wall just to the right of him. He pulled the sheaf of papers down and began reading. It turned out that the boiler, although in perfect working order now had never been replaced, it had merely had it's working parts modernised but the shell remained the same, the same as it had all those years ago when the young Sarah Davies had earned her living as a laundry worker. Apparently, according to a small paragraph inserted at the bottom of the page, the owner had wanted to keep the boiler as similar as possible to the original as a memorial to the young woman who had died. Dean read with disbelief, this guy wouldn't spend money to have the equipment fixed but then instructed that the antiquated boiler be kept in good working order as a reminder of the dedication of the unfortunate young woman. He sighed, "Demons I get, people, not so much", he said the words quietly to himself, the same words he'd said to Sammy many times when they'd come across something they found hard to believe.

Dean leaned his back against the boiler and scrubbed a hand across his face, he knew the spirit would soon be back, he had to find a way to give her the peace she deserved. As his eyes scanned the room he noticed something hanging on the wall on the far side of the room. As he got closer he could make out what it was, a pair of old wooden tongs, used, he believed, for turning the laundry in the huge vats which were used before washing machines became the norm. That's it, it's gotta be. He reached up and removed the worn tongs from the wall and examined them. With a deep breath he placed the tongs into one of the stainless steel sinks, poured salt and lighter fluid over them and was just about to strike the match which would hopefully turn them to ash and send Sarah Davies to her peaceful rest when the air once again turned an icy cold, he could see his breath mist as he breathed. Dean turned his body sideways, still standing as close to the sink as he could and faced Sarah.

"What are you doing with my things? Put them back. These are the last I have and I am unable to have money to buy more. If these are damaged it will anger my employer. He will take the money from my wages to purchase more."

Dean took a deep breath, "Listen….." But he got no further before Sarah's face contorted into uncontrollable anger and she quickly moved towards him. Dean struck the match and dropped it into the sink, the tongs bursting into flames, keeping his eyes on the spirit of Sarah Davies the whole time. Just as she neared him her face registered shock and she disappeared from sight. Dean released the breath he had been holding and sagged back against the sink. After a couple of minutes he collected his things and quietly made his way out of the laundry and out of the hotel confident that now, things would return to normal, the guests and staff would be safe from harm.

*** * * * * * * * **

Dean spent his time between journeys plotting the route he would take to Pastor Jim's and resolving any issues the towns may have along the way. So far he had managed to end the reign of five angry spirits, four poltergeists and had sent six demons back to the depths of hell. Now, as he entered the town of Grantston he had only two hundred and fifty miles of his journey left. Dean booked into one of the towns motel's and perused the research he'd done on the place so far. Apparently there was a poltergeist creating havoc in a warehouse, three people had been killed and more injured. Dean checked his watch and decided he would leave in a couple of hours, at about 10.30pm, which should give him time to get rid of the problem undisturbed and still allow him time to return to his motel, get some sleep and complete the next leg of his journey the following day.

*** * * * * * * ***

John, Sam and Pastor Jim entered the warehouse, and made their way to the main storage room, the place where all of the deaths and injuries had occurred. John gently pushed open the door and raised his flashlight in front of him quickly scanning the area to ensure they were not in for any unexpected surprises.

"What the hell?"

"Dad, what, what is it?"

John took the few steps it would take for him to be fully in the room and beckoned for his son and friend to follow him.

As they took in the sights before them the three hunters were rendered speechless.

Splintered storage boxes littered the ground, the back windows were smashed and the smell of smoke hung heavy in the air, but that is not what caught the attention of the three men. The empty rock salt shells, the purification symbols painted on the walls, all possible entrances and exits lined with salt and the small pile of still smouldering ash on the floor in the far corner of the room is what mystified them.

"Someone's been here and done this already." John stated the obvious for lack of anything else to say. He turned towards Jim and continued. "I thought it was agreed that we would handle this, that no other hunter was available."

"That's what I understood. I'll make some calls and find out who took care of this and when." With that he turned and made his way outside and back to the car, Sam and John following close behind.

**TBC……………….Please review**


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, here is the penultimate chapter of this little tale of mine, hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Supernatural owns me, not the other way around

_**Chapter four**_

Jim Murphy spent the entire morning on the phone trying to find out who had banished the poltergeist the night before but had so far come up blank. He had spoken to every hunter he had a contact number for and had asked them to contact hunters they knew to see if they could come up with anything, but nothing had come to light so far. He was as mystified as John and Sam, but, he supposed it wasn't entirely impossible that a hunter new to that particular area had taken on the poltergeist and then left, after all a hunt such as this one was quite simple for an experienced hunter and from the evidence they had seen last night, whoever had beaten them to it had surely known what they were doing.

*** * * * * * * ***

"Okay, I've had enough of this crap. What the fuck is going on? Every fucking hunt we've researched and attempted to go on over the past fuck knows how long has apparently already been handled by the 'new fucking hunter' who, it seems, has the uncanny knack of getting to a location we've chosen before we can." John Winchester ranted as he paced the living area of Pastor Jim's home whilst his son and friend looked on, both apprehensive of interrupting his vent for fear that they would be on the receiving end of a further tirade.

Sam took a deep breath and addressed his father, tirade and all. "Dad?"

"What?"

"I have an idea of how we can find out who this hunter is."

John turned to look at his son, "Well don't keep it to yourself Sam, how, how the fuck do we find this asshole?"

"We let set up a fake hunt, give the details, the location, everything, the only thing we don't publicise is that this is a dummy hunt, so, whoever is beating us to it should, with any luck, turn up at the stated location, but, instead of finding a hunt, they find us. That way we'll be able to discern whether this is a hunter who merely by coincidence is working the same jobs as us, albeit before we can arrive, or if this is something we should be worried about."

John studied his son for a few moments before his face broke out into the very pleased John Winchester grin, "I like it Sammy, I like it a lot. Let's get to it."

The three hunters spent the rest of the day laying a trail for a false hunt only fifty miles away to allow them to arrive at their chosen location with plenty of time to spare. Sam hacked into the local newspaper editor's database and added a story of a 'ghost' haunting and terrorising the local teenagers who used the park beside the cemetery of the town of Callopston as a meeting place. Jim alerted a few of the 'trusted' hunters he was associated with to the plan so as to avoid a bottle-neck of hunters arriving to take care of the 'ghost.' John worked to find the quickest route to their destination and pinpointed the best spots for them to await their prey without being detected.

It was late afternoon before Jim Murphy declared the trap set. All the three hunters could do now was wait, wait until the following evening, after the story had been published, when they were as sure as they could be that their nemesis would decide to take on the 'ghost' they had dreamed up, and then, at last, they would find out who was working the jobs they had spent so much time meticulously planning over the past number of weeks only to find themselves redundant once they arrived.

Sam watched as his father and Pastor Jim busied themselves with small tasks which would make the following evening go without a hitch, but he couldn't rest, not since his dad had told him he would be driving the Impala. Bobby had worked flat out to get the car fixed up in record time and had proudly driven it to Jim's place the day before. They had decided to take three vehicles, his dad's truck, Pastor Jim's old Ford Estate and the Impala. It wasn't that he couldn't handle the muscle car; it was just that it was Dean's car, had always been Dean's car, even before their dad had handed over the keys to his eldest son it had been Dean's car. Sam needed to speak to his brother, he needed the reassurance that everything would be okay and the only person he ever really believed was Dean. Dean always made his promises come true, he always made Sam feel safe, safer even than his dad made him feel. With these thoughts swirling around his head Sam made his way to the cemetery and to the spot he and his dad, along with Bobby, Caleb, Joshua and Missouri Moseley had laid his brother to rest, to the words of a highly emotional Pastor Jim Murphy. Sam had at first been devastated that only a handful of people were there to witness the passing of his brother, his hero, his protector, but as Bobby had told him later that afternoon, "Son, every single person in that cemetery this afternoon cared for your brother deeply and he in turn cared for each of us in the same way. To have virtual strangers in attendance would have caused Dean to roll his eyes, mutter something unintelligible and take off for the nearest bar where he could eye up the local girls and drink himself to unconciousness."

Sam smiled as he remembered the old hunter's words; after all, they were so true. As he reached his brothers grave Sam knelt beside the perfectly tended memorial, reaching out to polish the photo of the Impala which was propped against the headstone.

"Hey Dean, I got a problem."

"_Okay Sammy, what is it."_

Sam continued, hearing Dean's voice in his head as if his brother were standing next to him. "Dad says I have to drive your car tomorrow and as I haven't driven it for a while I'm a little nervous, so any tips."

"_Just one Sammy. You take care of her or I swear I'll kick your ass into next week."_

"Dude, how's that gonna make it okay."

"_Sammy. why're you worried? You've driven my baby before. Remember the time that fucking raw head got the drop on me; you got me to hospital by driving my baby. The time that angry spirit used my head as a battering ram, you got me out of there by driving my baby When that waitresses' boyfriend tried to separate me from a part of my body I'm kinda fond of you got me outta there. So quit being a girl and just do it bitch."_

Sam recalled the incidents his brother had brought up unable to stop his snort of laughter as images of his brother fleeing the waitress's apartment, her boyfriend in hot pursuit, before he answered his brother. "Jerk. I'll let you know tomorrow how it went." With that Sam stood and made his way back inside feeling a little more at ease with himself after the 'conversation' with his big brother.

*** * * * * * * * **

He couldn't rest, he was anxious but scared as hell about what he would find once he reached his destination. Pastor Jim's place had always been a safe haven, a place to recover, recoup, rest and relax that he wasn't sure what he would do if he found it had all gone, if the one safe place in his life, apart from his car, had suddenly changed, if it had all been taken away. He didn't think he would be able to handle that, not after everything that'd happened not only over the last few years but since he'd woken up in the hospital in Carvelstraight. He'd fought hard to get this far and now he almost didn't want to end the journey. Were Sammy and his dad okay? He just didn't know. For all he knew his entire family could have been wiped out. Pulling himself from his thoughts Dean reminded himself he was just fifty short miles from finding the answers he so desperately needed, whatever they may be. He had arrived in Callopston a few minutes ago and was debating whether to check into a motel or to continue his journey, he checked the time and decided that he would need to get a room unless he was gonna hitch the rest of the way to Lawrence as the next bus didn't leave until early the following morning. He found a cheap motel on the outskirts of town and ordered a pizza which arrived within ten minutes. He sat back on the bed nearest the door as he munched on a slice of the pizza, old habits die hard, he thought with a grin, the furthest bed always belonged to Sammy.

He tried flicking through the channels on the dilapidated old tv, tried to find a decent rock station on the clock radio, scrolled through his cell phone, read the rules and regulations of the motel but couldn't settle his mind to anything. Grabbing his jacket Dean left the motel room and made his way into the town centre where he found a bar, a library, a diner, a kids clothes store, a food store, a florist, a gas station, a clinic, a newsagents, a school, a park, a few office buildings, the local newspaper headquarters and a small church with cemetery attached. Walking slowly down one side of the main street Dean decided to check out the diner. He sat himself at the counter and ordered a coffee. As she served him the middle aged waitress gave him a small smile as she asked him if he'd seen the newspaper this morning.

"No, why?" He replied, not really interested but being polite just the same.

"Apparently it seems we have our very own ghost. So the story says, this ghost has been terrorising the kids at their meeting place."

"Oh yeah, and where is their meeting place." Dean tried to hide his interest but despite himself he was intrigued. Maybe there was something he could do to pass the time until the next bus to Lawrence.

"They meet at the park beside the cemetery. It's a little creepy I suppose but we don't really have anywhere else they can go, we're a little short on clubs and such around here and now it seems that out of nowhere we have a ghost which has sent the parents into a frenzy causing them to forbid their youngsters to hang out there any longer. Whether there's a ghost or not this town will soon resemble a place anything'd be happy to haunt, we'll have our very own ghost town. This place is already to damn quiet, it's enough to drive me crazy with boredom sometimes never mind the young uns."

Dean thanked the waitress for the coffee and made his way outside having decided that he would check out the cemetery to see if he could find any evidence as to what could be going on.

He walked through the gates and slowly strolled amongst the headstones before making his way into the small church where he was fortunate enough to find the parish priest in attendance.

The priest turned at the sound of the church doors opening and smiled as he watched the young man enter and make his way towards him. "Hello, can I help you with something or would you prefer a little privacy."

"Actually" Dean answered, "I was wondering if you could give me some information about the ghost that is supposedly haunting the town and scaring the teenagers half to death. I'm working on a book about hauntings across America and stumbled on this story as I was passing through, so thought I'd look into it."

The priest beckoned for Dean to sit next to him on the front pew, "The first I heard of any haunting in our town was when I read the newspaper report this morning. I have already made a point of visiting most of my parishioners with teenage children but have so far not managed to find a single one with any experience of seeing, hearing, feeling or being frightened of a ghost, friendly or otherwise. Unfortunately this had caused the parents to impose a curfew on their youngsters leading to many arguments within families. The priest paused before continuing. I am saddened to say that I fear this is all just a publicity stunt by our illustrious newspaper editor to increase the sales of his daily tabloid."

"Really? It's a little extreme isn't it, to come up with such an outlandish story as this."

"It is a sad fact young man that many people will go to extreme lengths to line their pockets. I fear this is just such a case."

Dean thanked the priest and made his way out of the church. He'd already decided he was going to visit the library to see if he could dig anything up on the history of the place, just in case there was any truth in the rumour. Two and a half hours later, and he had still unearthed nothing remotely suggesting there could be any kind of spirit, angry or otherwise, haunting the town so Dean made his way out of the library and over to the newspaper office. Once inside he slid past the reception desk and made his way to the elevator where he quickly found the location of the editor's office, having decided to go straight to the person responsible for printing the story in the first place and hopefully find out the source of the information. He travelled to the second floor and walked the short corridor until he found the room he was looking for. Without knocking he opened the door to be confronted with an irate, middle aged man frantically rifling through the drawers of the large desk he was sitting behind.

"Hahm" Dean cleared his throat causing the man to look up.

"What, can't you see I'm busy?"

"Mr Burton, hi, I'm Dean Ashford, I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding the report in this mornings newspaper concerning the haunting……"

Dean got no further with his story before he was interrupted by the very irate editor.

"For heavens sake, does nobody in this godforsaken town have anything else to talk about?" He bellowed.

"Mr Burton, I'm writing a book on supposed hauntings across America and thought this would be an ideal story to add to what I already have."

"Well you've had a wasted journey. There is no damn ghost, there is no haunting, there are no frightened teenagers and I have no fucking idea where this all came from. I did not authorise any such article as this to appear in my paper and when I find out who put it in there, believe me, heads are gonna roll, maybe then you'll find a ghost to write about. Now, if that's all I'm busy." With those words the editor returned to rifling through the contents of his desk.

Dean raised his eyebrows at the bent over form of the man and did the only thing he could do, he left.

After returning to his motel room Dean showered, ate a slice of cold pizza and once again tried to settle but found it impossible. He could not rest knowing he was so close to finding out what had happened to his brother and father. It was no good, he couldn't wait any longer. He rammed his few belongings into his rucksack, checked out of the motel and started walking; he had decided he would try to hitch his way home. It was now 6.30pm, hopefully by this time tomorrow he would have the answers to the questions which had been plaguing him for so long.

*** * * * * * * ***

"_Have you checked the gas Sammy?"_

"Yeah Dean, the gas tanks full."

"_What about the oil levels and the tyres, you know, if the tyres aren't at the correct pressure they'll wear down quicker, you could turn my baby over and we both know that won't be good for her bodywork or yours because I'll really have to kick your ass."_

"Dean would you just quit. The cars gonna be okay and I'd like to see you try to kick my ass shorty, hell you probably can't even reach it."

"_Funny Sammy, very funny, but lets see who's laughing if my car comes back with even one tiny mark on her body."_

"Dean it's a car, not a woman."

"_You sure you can remember what a woman feels like Sammy."_

"Shut up Dean."

"_Shut up Dean. Is that the best you can do Sammy. You're gonna have to do better than that little brother."_

Sam was dragged from the 'conversation' with his brother as his dad shook him awake. "Come on Sam, we gotta move."

Sam glanced at the clock, unwilling to leave the comfort of his 'chat' with his brother. "Okay, okay, I'm ready."

John Winchester was half way out the door before Sam swung his legs to the floor. He grabbed his duffle, quickly checked his pockets and with a sigh and a silent 'Well here we go Dean', he made his way downstairs where his father and Pastor Jim were waiting.

Jim smiled at the young man coming down the stairs. "Ready to go Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes as he followed the two older men out to the waiting cars, he paused briefly as he looked at the Impala waiting for him. "It's alright girl, I'll take good care of you, don't you worry." He shook his head in disbelief at himself. "What the hell am I doing talking to a car? I'm getting as bad as Dean." But he couldn't help smiling as he turned the ignition and heard the purr of the engine. He patted the dash and followed his dad's truck out of the drive, Pastor Jim following close behind. The journey didn't take nearly as long as they had figured, in fact the three men even had time to stop for coffee at a roadside diner about ten miles from their destination. As he climbed out of the Impala Sam couldn't help but notice a grey chevy, just a year older than Dean's and in almost as good condition. With a nod to the driver Sam followed his father and friend inside where the aroma of hot coffee set his taste buds tingling.

*** * * * * * * ***

Dean had managed to hitch a ride fairly quickly but discovered that the guy who'd stopped for him was taking the first turn after they hit the highway taking him in completely the wrong direction. Dean had thanked him for the ride and decided he would take the time for a coffee at the roadside diner he'd been dropped of at. As he was making his way to the entrance his attention was caught by the sound of a loud purr behind him. He turned to see a magnificent grey Impala pull into a parking space. "Hey, great car man."

"Thanks, she's a beauty isn't she?"

"Sure is. You had her long."

"About a year, my Uncle left her to me in his will. I'd always been crazy about his car and he promised that one day it'd be mine and he was true to his word."

"Nice." Was the only thing Dean could come up with, his thoughts turning to his own car, wondering what had happened to her. God, he had so many questions, it was gonna drive him crazy if he didn't soon get the answers he so desperately needed.

The guy with the chevy drained his cup and turned to leave, pausing; he spoke to Dean before he left. "Hey, I couldn't help noticing that you arrived on foot. I was er, wondering if you could maybe use a ride."

Dean looked at the man, "Where you heading."

"Straight down the highway, through Lawrence and on t……."

Dean couldn't keep the excitement from his voice as he said "Lawrence, I'm headed to Lawrence, so if that was a serious offer I'd be glad to take you up on it."

"Okay, if you're ready I need to hit the road."

"Can you give me a minute, I need to uh, y'know." Dean grabbed the attention of the waitress to ask where the men's room was only to be told that due to renovations they only had a portable washroom out back.

The guy grabbed his keys off the counter, turned to Dean and said "I'll get the car and pick you up out back."

"Thanks man, won't be a minute." Dean rushed out the side door and down the alley beside the diner oblivious to the fact that three cars, a black 67 chevy impala amongst them, driven by a shaggy haired young man, had just pulled into the parking lot. Five minutes later and Dean was on the last leg of his journey.

**TBC……………………..Please review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Here is the final chapter. Hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural owns me, not the other way around.**

_**Chapter five**_

The three hunters positioned themselves at three vantage points around the cemetery and park. They each had a clear view of the entrances and exits but were not visible to anyone entering or leaving the open space. Each also had a radio so they could alert each other of any arrivals. John Winchester was not a patient man and the three hours he'd been sitting in his truck waiting for whoever it was he was waiting for had worn his patience down as far as it could go. The only incident had been just over an hour ago when he'd seen a flashlight bobbing up and down across the middle of the grassed area of the park. He and Jim had left Sam on watch and had made their way to the moving object. Both had been stunned to find an elderly woman practically on her hands and knees searching for her lost cat. Teddy she told them, had been with her for ten years and was her best friend but tonight he'd not returned home for his tea which was unusual because she'd told him this morning that it was tuna chunks and sweetcorn and Teddy loved his tuna chunks and sweetcorn.

At the murderous look on his friends face Jim Murphy had moved to stand in front of John, placed his arm around the frail shoulders of the old woman and told her he was sure he'd seen Teddy trotting across the road about a half-hour ago. As the woman hugged him before trotting off as fast as her legs would take her Jim offered up a prayer of apology for the little white lie he'd just told but justified it by figuring he'd just saved her from being blasted with rock salt and if his friend and fellow hunter had anything to do with it, sent to the depths of hell.

John shot a murderous glare towards the priest as he heard him relaying the story over his radio to Sam who was, by the sounds of it, struggling to breathe through his laughter.

After another two hours of watching and waiting the three hunters decided that no one was going to turn up. Their plan had failed. They would not find out the identity of the mysterious hunter tonight. All three decided it was time to call it a night, so, as one; they turned the ignition on their respective vehicles and headed for home.

*** * * * * * * ***

Dean reluctantly uncurled himself out of the car he'd travelled the last forty miles in, gave his thanks to the driver and bade him goodbye. He was on the outskirts of Lawrence, finally he'd made it. Now all he had to do was make his way to Pastor Jim's place which would take him about two to two and a half hours if he kept moving, which is what he intended to do. He would allow no more hold ups; he was finally in striking distance of his long awaited destination. The streets were practically deserted as he made his through his home town. Eventually, after he'd been walking for a while he began to recognize places. He walked past the kindergarten he went to before his life had been torn apart, he walked past the shops he'd visited with his mom, he wandered through the park where he'd played ball with his dad. He could almost hear the childish shrieks of delight as his dad swung him high and then rolled him to the ground tickling him until he'd cried with laughter. He turned the corner and came face to face with his old house. The house where he'd had the perfect life, his mom, dad, baby brother and himself had lived the apple pie life, he'd been so happy, everything was perfect until that night, the night which put him and his family on the road to the life they now led. He sighed and continued on his way shocked to realize he was nearly there, so lost in his memories, he'd not realized how far he'd come. As he followed the curve in the road he drew in a breath. There it was. This was the place he'd spent so long trying to get back to.

As he neared the house Dean's heartbeat increased, he could feel his palms sweating. He was walking up the drive towards the front door. The house was in darkness. No old car parked out front. He tried the door handle, it wouldn't budge, the door was locked. Dean reached into his pocket for the paperclip he'd picked up at the newspaper office and opened it up until he could insert it into the lock and manoeuvre it around until he heard the click that told him the door was now unlocked. He slowly pushed the heavy door back and quietly made his way inside pausing only to close and relock the door behind him. The house was in darkness; he called out, no answer. He pulled his flashlight out of his duffle and followed the small beam of light into the living area which was also empty but was obviously still lived in. With a sigh of relief that his journey had not been in vain Dean made his way to the kitchen, back garden, up the stairs to the bedrooms and finally the bathroom only to find them all deserted. There was one place he hadn't yet looked, Pastor Jim's extensive library, which also housed a hidden cache of weapons suitable for disposing of any supernatural entity he'd ever come across. The door to the library was locked. No surprise there but also no barrier to the determined hunter desperately wanting to find some semblance of normality in what had become an even more abnormal life than usual of late. The library was also in darkness, this time however Dean turned on the light so that he could scan the entire area to see if it was inhabited by any one of the people he was so desperate to see. Again he was disappointed. He turned out the light and was about to return to the main area of the house when he decided that this would be as good a place as any to wait for someone to arrive. Without turning on the lights Dean sank into one of the chairs and immediately felt himself enveloped in the luxuriously deep cushions surrounding his exhausted body. Within minutes the weary hunter was asleep.

*** * * * * * * ***

John, Sam and Pastor Jim arrived back at the rectory just as dawn was breaking, the three hunters had again stopped for a reviving cup of coffee at the same roadside diner they'd visited on their outward journey. Now, all the three men wanted to do was get some sleep. They entered the house and immediately went to their respective rooms where each of them were dead to the world within minutes.

Sam woke to the sound of muffled voices drifting up to his room from the garden below. He got out of bed and glanced out the window to see his dad and Pastor Jim sitting on the garden chairs enjoying a large mug of coffee as they chatted, no doubt the subject was their unsuccessful stakeout the night before. Sam decided he would take a quick shower before he joined the two older men outside. Twenty minutes later he walked into the garden to be greeted with a cheery hello from Pastor Jim and a grunt from his dad. Sam couldn't help but smile at his dad's obvious ill temper. The three of them got through a further pot of strong, black coffee before Sam decided it was time he went to work to see if he could find any sign of the demon they were hunting or failing that a hunt they could go on and hopefully reach before someone else beat them to it. He was about to walk in through the back door when he heard a crash from inside the house. Sam turned and gestured to the two men still seated that something was amiss. Immediately recognizing what the young hunter was telling them the two men rose as one and quickly made their way to the door of the house. Sam motioned for his dad to go round and cover the front whilst he and Jim would enter from this direction to split up when they got inside so that they could cover the two entryways into the main living area with John covering the only other exit.

*** * * * * * * ***

Dean had woken with a start. He took in his surroundings with bleary, sleep filled eyes, his brain taking a few moments to remember where he was. His body sagged further into the cushions surrounding him as he remembered that he was at last home. Now all he had to do was find his dad, brother, Pastor Jim and anyone else who was often present in the rectory. He pushed himself out of the most comfortable chair his body had known for a very long time and quietly made his way to the stairs, he climbed them and opened the library door. He crept along the hall towards the three doors which housed the bedrooms he and his family used when they stayed here either between hunts or when they needed a little down time to recover from injuries received whilst fighting evil. Each room he checked turned up empty. The place appeared as deserted now as it had when he had arrived last night, or early this morning depending on how you looked at it. He made his way downstairs and into the main living area which he saw was also deserted. He was about to make his way into the kitchen when he spotted the phone. He just wanted to check it was working. His mind distracted Dean didn't notice the glass photo frame on the edge of the bureau just inside the door until he heard it crash to the floor; he froze as the noise of the shattering glass resounded around the room. When nothing happened Dean bent to pick up the pieces and was on his way to placing the sharp pieces in the waste basket when he was tackled from behind, sending him to crashing to the floor, the huge weight on his back driving one of the longest shards of glass deep into his thigh as he fell his mind becoming fuzzy as his head connected with the floor.

Sam and Pastor Jim had signalled John to tackle the intruder as he was the only one of the three who would be able to get close enough without being seen. As soon as the two men hit the floor Sam and Jim moved to ensure the guy being pinned to the carpet by the solid form of the eldest Winchester was unable to escape before they discovered his identity.

John picked himself up and watched as his son and friend lifted the intruder to his feet, he noticed a dark red stain on the stranger's thigh, soaking through his jeans but was far more concerned as to who or what this was. The guy's head had fallen forward, the hood of his jacket obscuring his face from view.

Sam grabbed the intruder's hood and pulled it back to reveal the face of their captive. What he saw stole the breath from his lungs leaving him gasping until he was able to collect his thoughts and process exactly what he was seeing.

"You bastard, what the fuck are you. I'm gonna tear you apart." Sam's anger at the sight of his brother was almost too much for his mind to cope with.

"Sammy?" "Dad?" Dean raised bleary eyes to look from his brother to his dad and back again. He couldn't quite understand why they weren't as happy to see him as he was to see them, to finally know they were okay. This wasn't how he thought the reunion would go. He'd expected them to be surprised but he'd also expected them to be happy. A small voice whispered inside his head. "They don't need you. As long as you keep Sammy safe you're useful, you failed Dean."

"You're not my brother, you're not him." Sam's angry voice filtered through the fog surrounding him.

"Yes Sammy, I am. I've spent the last god knows how long making my way back here. I didn't even know if you were alive or dead. After the crash you were both just gone and I had no idea what had happened to you, either of you." Dean looked from his father to his brother once again, his eyes imploring them to believe him, to know it was him.

John moved to stand directly in front of Dean and looked deep into the kid's eyes, he didn't say a word for almost five minutes, he then reached into his pocket and pulled out the small flask he was never without, opened the top and held it out to Dean. "Drink" he ordered.

Dean rolled his eyes but complied with the request only speaking after he had taken a large gulp. "I'm not a demon, I'm not possessed, I'm not a shapeshifter or revenant I'm your son.

John Winchesters tone was cold as he replied. "My son is lying in that cemetery, he gestured towards the window as he spoke, we identified his body, me and Sam, we buried him, so you tell me how you can be Dean and who, according to you, is lying out there in the grave marked with my sons name, "

Dean couldn't answer, his mind reeling from his fathers words, the coldness of the glare levelled at him from the two most important people in his life chilling him to the bone.

"There's one sure way we can find out the truth. We dig up Dean's grave." Pastor Jim's eyes never leaving Dean's face as he spoke.

Sam began to object but was quickly stopped by his dad. "Jim's right Sammy, I don't like it but this is the only way we can be sure."

"You could always believe me." Dean muttered as he was led out of the house and into the cemetery where he was handcuffed to a tree by an apologetic Pastor Jim.

"When this is all over you and I need to talk about where you got the handcuffs and what you use them for." Dean couldn't help but smirk as an embarrassed blush crept up the Pastor's cheeks.

"You sure have the smart mouth of Dean Winchester." Jim said almost to himself as he went to join his friends in their quest for the truth.

Dean watched his dad and brother shovelling the dirt out of the grave which apparently held his body. He was as anxious as the three men at the gravesite to see what they would unearth but he was beginning to wonder whether he'd make it that far. His vision was beginning to blur, his head was throbbing, blood poured from the wound to his leg and he was fighting with just about everything he had left just to stay conscious. The cuffs attaching him to the tree didn't have enough give to allow him to lower himself to the ground so he had to make do with leaning all his weight against the thick trunk and concentrating his mind on staying focussed.

An hour and a half later John and Sam finally reached the coffin lid. Both raised their eyes to each other in silent communication. It was now or never. Pastor Jim prayed quietly as John levered the casket lid open.

All three men were frozen to the spot by the sight that met them. The casket was empty, apart from a solitary silver bullet lying in the middle of the padded base.

Dean, unable to see inside the coffin tensed his body as he watched Sam haul himself out of the grave and practically run the distance between them only stopping when he was close enough that his whispered words could be heard by his brother. Without warning Sam grabbed a hold of him as best he could and held him tight.

Dean's arms were suddenly released from the cuffs causing him to lose his balance and fall against his little brother, the only thing stopping him from face planting was Sam.

"Dean, Dean can you hear me. Nonono Dean, stay with me, come on, just a little longer, I'm sorry, god Dean I'm so sorry, I should have known." Dean really wanted to tell Sammy that it was okay but he couldn't, he could feel himself drifting, feel his mind shutting down, he tried to fight it but really didn't have the strength so he gave in and let the darkness take him.

John stooped and placed one arm under his son's knees and with the other supported his child's neck causing Dean's head to fall against his shoulder. John looked into his son's unconscious face with conflicting emotions. On the one hand he was unbelievably happy to have his son back but on the other he was ashamed that he hadn't known it was his son who stood before him a short time ago, he remembered the pleading hurt as the green eyes had begged him to believe, to trust what he was telling him.

The three men hurried towards the house with their precious cargo and once there immediately set to work. Pastor Jim cleaned and stitched the deep wound to Dean's thigh declaring that the boy had lost a lot of blood, which coupled with the mild concussion he had undoubtedly suffered as a result of hitting the floor meant he would more than likely be out for a good few hours.

"Shouldn't we get him to a hospital or something?" Sam worried. "What if he's fractured his skull or something? What if he needs a transfusion?"

John spoke to his youngest son without taking his eyes off his eldest, still hardly able to believe he had him back. "We can't Sammy, you know that. Jim's got it covered; he won't take any risks with your brother."

Sam knew his father was right, he knew Pastor Jim would do whatever was necessary to ensure Dean would be okay and make a full recovery and until his brother did just that Sam vowed not to leave his side, not even for a minute, he wanted to be there when Dean woke up. There was something Sam just didn't understand though. "Dad, what happened to the body we buried, where the hell did it go? The grave hadn't been disturbed before we dug it up today, how could it just disappear.

Jim answered before John had a chance "Shapeshifters, if they have been subject to the termination ritual literally dissolve after a given amount of time, the length of which depends on the words spoken at such ritual.

Consciousness was hard to return, he struggled through what seemed to be endless amounts of damp, tangled cotton wool before he was able to open his eyes. He stared at the ceiling trying to remember where he was, moving his eyes to the side as his memories returned. He came face to face with what appeared to be a shaggy mophead but was in fact his brothers, head resting on the arm of the sofa as he slept. Dean smiled at the sight as his eyes travelled beyond his brother's form to find himself being observed by his dad's intense dark brown eyes.

"Hey Dean." Were the only words he heard.

"Dad?"

"It's okay kiddo, you're gonna be fine, just need to rest." Dean watched as his dad visibly steadied himself before continuing. "Dean, I'm sorry…."

"Dad it's okay, not your fault." Dean cut his father off before he could say anything more.

"And before you start it's not yours either Sammy." Dean noticed his brothers head shoot up at the sound of voices and wanted to be sure his little brother wasn't carrying any guilt about the events of the past months, let alone the last few hours.

"Dean, how're you feeling?" " D'you need anything?" "What happened?" "Why didn't you call us?" "Where've you been?" "I thought, we thought you were…?" Sam couldn't continue, his voice breaking he turned away from his brothers bruised face and excused himself muttering something about needing the bathroom.

Dean watched him go and then looked to his dad.

"He'll be okay, he just needs a little time, this has been hard on him." His fathers voice softer now "As soon as you feel ready I want to know what happened…."

But not right now, the boy needs to rest." John was interrupted by Pastor Jim entering the room, first aid kit in tow. "Now, let me check the wound on your leg, we don't want it getting infected." Without waiting Jim lifted the blanket and removed the dressing over the deep gash and inspected the stitches and surrounding area. Satisfied that all was as it should be he redressed it and placed the blanket back over his patient. He ruffled Dean's hair chuckling at the horrified look on the young man's face and leaving him speechless with his next words.

"Dean, it's good to have you back. We missed you."

Those ten little words warmed Dean through to his core. Maybe he was needed after all. Maybe the demon did lie.

Over the following days Dean regained his strength, his injuries healing well and after learning of the events of his 'death' he finally felt able give the full details of his time away from his family. Beginning with how he had woken up alone in the hospital, his journey and the hunts he'd undertaken along the way to finally arriving here. He couldn't help but laugh at the story of the 'mysterious' hunter beating his dad, brother and Pastor Jim to the action on more than one occasion. Dean couldn't believe how close he'd come to literally bumping into his family only for events to drive them away from each other. He nearly had a relapse; he laughed so hard at the story of the old lady and her cat and was incredibly happy to see his dad laughing along with everyone else.

Dean looked at the three men around him and just could not wait any longer to ask a very important question of them.

"How's my car. I didn't see her when I arrived. Is she alright?"

Sam, face poker straight, took a deep breath before answering his brother.

"I'm sorry Dean but…."

"What?" "She's gone isn't she?"

"If you'll let me finish Dean. She was pretty messed up, practically had to be rebuilt. Bobby did a great job, just one, small, tiny problem." Sam paused for effect before continuing. Deciding to just come out with it, get it over with. "The steering wheel and petrol cap are………….yellow."

Dean wanted to say something, anything, but couldn't, his mind flooded with images of his baby tarnished with a yellow, of all colours, steering wheel and petrol cap.

Sam, John and Pastor Jim watched with growing amusement the horrified expressions crossing Dean's face before deciding it was time to put him out of his misery.

Sam slapped his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Oh Dean, you should see your face. That's one up to me I think."

Dean took in the amused expressions on the faces of the three men around him. "You…it's…….not funny." Then he looked at Sam before ending this. "Bitch."

He wanted this to last forever, his family all together again, not arguing, not butting heads but really getting along, talking and laughing together, but he knew that sooner or later things would have to return to normal, well the Winchester kind of normal anyway. Their dad would leave and he and Sammy would hit the road in his baby, hunting things, saving people. After all, that is what they did.

*** * * * * * * ***

Lara clasped Louis' hand tightly as she observed the small family relaxing in the garden of their friend's house.

"You see how he is with his brother Louis. Sam Winchester holds his older sibling in high regard and would do nothing to harm him in any way."

Louis studied the scene as his partner spoke, he had followed the progress of both boys for over two decades and he had to admit it did appear that they had nothing to worry about. Sam Winchester, with the support of his older sibling would not give in to his dark destiny. The separation the two had recently endured had only strengthened their bond. Sam Winchester would not, he was certain, lead the demon army, in fact, with his brother by his side; these two would do much good in this world.

With a contented, happy sigh Louis and Lara faded away knowing they would continue to observe the Winchesters from time to time to ensure all was still as it should be.

**The End.**

**Please Review.**


End file.
